MAZATLAN

Whatever happened to that sleepy little Mexican town I remember?

In the old Mazatlan the streets were crowded with chickens and dogs curled up in the road to sleep. No one hurried. There was little to do but fish or lie in the sun. Mazatlan was a fine place to escape the pressure cooker. It still is if you pick the right place, but the town has taken on a sophistication that didn’t exist 20 years ago.

In place of empty stretches of beach, there is mile after mile of hotels, restaurants, curio shops and stylish boutiques. The aranas are gone, those open horse carriages that used to carry vacationers. In their place are long lines of taxis and open-air Volkswagens with steel bars instead of doors.

Still, a certain charm remains. There are the little inns and small cafes and the narrow streets that twist through the old town where Chuey Juarez still operates the restaurant he and Carlos Anderson opened in 1963, El Shrimp Bucket.

Vacationers sip beer and margaritas at the Gringo Lingo, and down the street Carlos and Ricardo Irvine operate the Mazatlan Arts & Crafts Center that features the finest variety of gift items in town.

The first restaurant to serve ice cream in Mazatlan was called El Gringo and it was operated by Carlos and Ricardo’s father, Capt. James Irvine. Besides ice cream, Capt. Irvine featured marlin steaks, wild pig and quail. Capt. Irvine also managed the old Dollar Line that did freighter trips out of Mazatlan.

When he died his sons inherited his rancho and hacienda and later, while delivering limes to town, Carlos and Ricardo got into the tour business while showing a couple of gringos around town. In that single afternoon they earned more than they did selling limes in an entire week. Besides the tour business, they are busy operating the Mazatlan Arts & Crafts Center and its restaurant, Tequila Charlie’s.

Tequila Charlie’s is a pleasant place to go for lunch. Huge trees shade its patio and guests dine on shrimp burgers, tortilla soup, quesadillas, mahi-mahi and smoked marlin salad. The guests also prepare their own tacos with ingredients delivered by waiters in white aprons.

Carlos Irvine got the idea for the arts and crafts center from a boutique in San Blas that was operated by an ex-ballerina from San Francisco who lost her heart to a local restaurateur and stayed on to marry the hombre and sell Mexican-made crafts.

In the beginning, Carlos Irvine did business out of thatched huts that resembled a Samoan village surrounded by cages of iguanas, ocelots, jaguars, a crocodile and a mountain lion. He got rid of the animals and the reptiles when he opened the slick new center, which is only a few doors from Hotel Playa Mazatlan. The center does business seven days a week, 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., with one exception. On New Year’s Day everyone sleeps in an extra hour.

Elsewhere, vendors work the beaches in front of the major hotels, particularly El Cid, Los Sabalos, the Playa Mazatlan, the Holiday Inn and the Inn at Mazatlan. Resembling circus performers, the vendors amble down the beach buried under hats, blankets, jewelry, lace, leather and carved animals. Indeed, one dealer strolled by looking like a walking sombrero.

Surrender or Run

The vendors remain outside the rope barricades in front of the hotels and one is safe so long as one remains on the hotel side. But cross over and it’s either surrender or run. Bulmaro Baez Coatzin, a charming fellow wearing a Charley Pride T-shirt, waited patiently until a guest made a dash for the beach. Suddenly Coatzin went into action. He came on like an auctioneer at Sotheby’s.

The victim didn’t stand a chance. Festooned with blankets, Coatzin made his sale and moved on. I feigned sleep but it didn’t work. Coatzin was in a mood to talk. He slumped down on the sand and told me how on a good day he sells as many as 10 blankets while his wife Rosa peddles towels. Between them, he said, they earn enough to come to work each morning in a taxi.

“Senor, “ he said thoughtfully, “that’s better than driving a freeway in Los Angeles.”

About this time he spotted another guest who’d crossed the barricade. Coatzin gave chase.

“No!” the man insisted, throwing up his arms.

“Please!” said the vendor.

The guest shrugged. “How much?”

“Eight thousand pesos,” said Coatzin.

“Six,” said the guest.

“A deal,” said the vendor.

The Biggest Hotel

El Cid, where this pitchman in the Charley Pride T-shirt was staked out, is Mazatlan’s biggest hotel and if you can’t swim, then wear a life preserver. With five swimming pools, it’s possible to paddle nearly the entire length of the hotel, passing from pool to pool beneath a series of bridges.

With 600 rooms, El Cid is in the process of doubling its size with a couple of new towers as well as a marina, man-made waterfalls, shops and a subdivision with luxury homes whose owners will play a 27-hole golf course. This along with 17 tennis courts, a sauna, a gymnasium, a pro shop, a clubhouse and 11 restaurants and bars. In addition, the resort’s disco, which cost $5 million, features two slides and a fireman’s pole for guests who are in a hurry to get to the dance floor below.

With El Cid representing the largest privately owned resort in Mexico, owner Julio Berdeque and general manager Guillermo Bernal figure in a pinch that they could secede from the rest of the country.

In contrast, the Camino Real does nicely with 162 rooms perched on a bluff at the far end of town. Just above the beach, one of the hotel’s restaurants, the Chiquita Banana, anesthetizes guests with rum drinks called the Green Mango and the Black Pearl. With its breathtaking setting, the Camino Real has produced an off-season package that figures out to $48 per person for two nights, including cocktails and breakfast.

Piano Bar in Lobby

At the other end of town, Hotel Los Sabalos appears like a transplant from the Costa del Sol. Mediterranean-style towers rise above a swimming pool, the guest rooms are squeaky clean and the lobby is graced with a piano bar, rattan furniture and potted plants.

Guests gather in Joe’s Oyster Bar with its thatch roof and a menu that lists oysters, shrimp, fish, Eastern scallops and exotic drinks. With a hi-fi going full blast, though, the decibels are easier to take in the hotel’s other restaurant, Las Olas, with its smoked salmon tacos, ceviche, Aztec-style tortilla soup, red snapper and carne asada tampiquena, which is to say beef tenderloin with guacamole, rice and beans.

To escape the mob scene in Mazatlan, my bid goes to the simple little La Casa Contenta on Playa Gaviotas Beach. Less than $30 a day will get you a positively spotless apartment on the beach with a kitchen, living room/dining room and wet bar. With tiled floors and whitewashed walls, it’s a gem.

La Casa Contenta is one of those rare resorts that’s impossible to fault. Manager Teresa Corral operates a lending library for guests who sun on the beach and switch off the world.

To indicate how long it’s been since I was in Mazatlan, rooms at the Playa Mazatlan were fetching $9 a day. Considering this was 20 years ago, the current rate of $34 for one of the Playa’s 425 rooms represents a bargain. So does the weekly “fiesta” for 8 bucks that features an open bar, a Mexican buffet, live music and a floor show. What’s more, guests at the Playa can dial direct anywhere in the world, which constitutes a miracle of sorts considering that 20 years ago you were lucky to reach the next village, much less London or Los Angeles.

Shrimp Done 10 Ways

A few doors away, romantics gather at Larios with its outdoor dining arena, white wrought-iron furniture, red tablecloths and meals by candlelight. At Larios the shrimp is done 10 different ways, the frog legs are breaded and the most expensive meal figures out to less than $9. It is open for breakfast as well, with the chef turning out both eggs malaquena and eggs rancheros.

For the sort of atmosphere one might expect to find in French Polynesia or Samoa, Tres Islas is a reasonable choice. One corner is graced by a Pepsi cooler, fans spin in the ceiling and the thatch roof rises to a pitch. What’s more, the seafood is fresh from the ocean, which is just outside the door. Tres Islas reminds me of a dive I know in Tahiti, and certainly the prices are reasonable. Dinner with wine came to less than $9.

Still, the busiest restaurants in Mazatlan are Chuey Juarez’s Shrimp Bucket and Senor Frog’s. Chuey with his partner Carlos Anderson opened El Shrimp Bucket in Hotel La Siesta in 1963. Afterward they bought the hotel. With rates from $8 for a single to $10.40 for a double, it’s one of the best buys in Mazatlan. Only don’t make the mistake of going to bed before Chuey shoos away the marimba band in El Shrimp Bucket. Not unless you bring along earplugs.

Chuey and Carlos Anderson operate nearly 40 other restaurants in Mexico plus one in Madrid and another in Los Angeles. Senor Frog’s is busier even than El Shrimp Bucket. Crowds begin lining up at the door before it opens at noon. After this it’s jammed. And by midnight it’s, well . . . bedlam. Guests dance on the tables. Others dance on the chairs.

Tradition Started

“Some crazy guy started dancing on the tables and chairs six years ago,” said Chuey. “Now everyone does it.”

Another customer nailed the license plate off his car to a wall at Senor Frog’s. It started a fad. Now the walls are shingled with license plates. Not just Mexican plates but others from the United States and Canada. Even Europe.

Senor Frog’s serves margaritas and pina coladas in glasses as big as fishbowls. This along with tacos and enchiladas and other good stuff. It’s like Bastille Day or the 4th of July or New Year’s each day at Senor Frog’s. The party goes on almost constantly.

It never stopped even when Senor Frog’s moved from another location a couple of blocks away. The band played the Mexican equivalent of “Goodnight, Sweetheart,” and everyone was supposed to go home. Instead, the customers picked up the tables, the chairs, the glasses and the booze and marched off down the street to the new Senor Frog’s while the band followed, never missing a beat.

By 1 a.m. the “new” Senor Frog’s looked as if it had been in the latest location for 20 years, and the celebration roared on till dawn. It’s been that way for 13 years--partying day and night, practically nonstop.

So what ever happened to the old Mazatlan?

Chuey Juarez shakes his sighs and smiles. “Man, that’s a mystery.”